


Crisp

by trycatpennies



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: D/s, Established Relationship, Figging, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-22
Updated: 2011-12-22
Packaged: 2017-10-27 19:01:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/299014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trycatpennies/pseuds/trycatpennies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris has his first punishment, involving something from the vegetable crisper.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crisp

Chris stands with the fridge open, fidgeting from foot to foot. He's taking too long, he knows, and Darren's already punishing him for forgetting to open to door for him when they went shopping today, and Chris is making this worse for himself by procrastinating.

He yanks open the crisper and takes what he needs, slamming it, and the fridge closed, before turning and padding back towards the living room. Darren's waiting, but he's taken his shoes and socks off while Chris was dallying, and he's tapping a bare foot in the carpet. He stands up when Chris walks in. He looks displeased. To say the least.

They're both new at this, but they'd been in a good groove, with rules and protocols and then Chris had messed it all up, and fuck. He hates that look on Darren. He just wants to do things _right_.

He'd suffered the silence on the way home, and Darren's terse instructions once they got home, the first one being to strip.

So, naked, he hands the ginger and the paring knife to Darren, and clamps down on both the apology and the pout he wants to let out.

Darren sets the ginger and the knife down and presses Chris to his knees, facing away from Darren, onto the couch, pushing at his thighs till Chris spreads them, precariously. Chris is already panting, feeling exposed and shamed, legs spread and unable to see Darren. He braces his arms on the back of the couch and listens. There's the scraping of the knife and then a pause, then Darren must decide he's not done, and there's more scraping.

"What did you do wrong?" Darren asks, blunt. Chris can hear the soft thump of Darren's knees hitting the carpet, then one of Darren's hands spreading him open. Chris' breath hitches, and Darren gives his ass a swat when he doesn't answer quick enough. "Chris, answer when I ask you a question."

"I didn't hold the door for you," Chris answers, and he lets out a shaky breath, his dick already hard and pressed against the couch cushions. "Sir."

"And now?" Darren says, and there's a spit slick finger against Chris asshole, and he breathes, bearing down and letting Darren stretch him a little.

"Now I'm being punished," Chris says, and he gasps when he gets another finger, still nothing more than spit easing the way.

He almost whines when Darren pulls his fingers out, but he knows what's coming next, and he has a hard time not clenching when he feels the not quite cool rough texture of the peeled ginger push against him.

"Breathe," Darren orders, and Chris does, shuddering but deep enough to allow Darren to push the ginger in further. "Good boy."

Chris moans when Darren starts thrusting the ginger in and out, and he follows the pressure of Darren's hand pushing him to bend further over the couch, spreading his legs further.

It feels good. _So_ good. Until it feels. Not good.

"Da-" Chris starts, but a slap to his thigh stops him. "Sir," he pleads instead.

"No, this is why it's a punishment," Darren says, and slaps Chris' thigh again when Chris starts to squirm.

It burns, burns and sort of itches and Chris wants it out, out god. He whimpers, and almost sighs in relief when Darren lets go of him, thinking Darren's done, that he's going to pull out the ginger, make it stop burning.

"Now, the dishwasher is full, and the bathroom and kitchen need to be swept. After that you can come see me, we'll see if you learned your lesson."

Darren pushes himself up, then leans over Chris, voice rough.

"Oh, and if that ginger falls out, you're not coming for /weeks/, boy. Don't fuck it up."

The chores are excruciating. Everytime Chris bends over he has to clench, and clenching makes it that much _wors_. He almost breaks three plates, and he makes significantly more noise than he normally would with the silverware and he actually ends up sweeping twice, since the first time doesn't meet his (or Darren's) standards.

He's thorough, and by the end, the kitchen and bathroom floors are sparkling and Chris is biting back tears, torn between fidgeting and moving as little as possible, because the less he moves the less it burns.

He heads back to the living room, which is empty. He turns, limping towards the office, and yes, god, Darren's there, guitar in his lap. He turns when Chris let's out a broken sob, and sets the guitar down. Chris drops to his knees, and he's sorry, so sorry. He's muttering while he knee-walks toward Darren, who hasn't moved from his chair, hands on his knees, watching Chris.

"Sir, I'm so sorry. I won't do it again, sir. I'll pay more respect, more attention, please, sir, just-"

Chris is cut off by Darren's hand on his cheek, and Chris looks up, eyes teary.

"Good boy. Turn around," Darren says, and Chris let's out a grateful sob, turning and presenting his ass to Darren, tilting it up shamelessly. Darren takes it out, finally, out and pets Chris' ass, gentle. "You're forgiven, boy. Don't do it again."

The sensation lessens immediately, though there's still a burn, easing slowly. Chris drops his head to his forearms, breathing hard, heart pounding, and he doesn't even twitch when Darren spreads his ass apart, looking.

"Better, baby?" Darren asks, and Chris snuffles and nods, clenching his ass and wincing. It still burns a little, but Darren's hands feel good, gentle, and Chris wants to push back into them. He doesn't though, stays still, lets Darren look, touch his fill.

"Go shower. We'll watch a movie, cuddle, ok?" Darren taps his ass, gentle, and Chris feels something release inside him, the stress of the mistake leaving him. Darren kisses him when he stands, then picks up his guitar again, turning back to the computer. "You did good, Chris."


End file.
